Seif's Book: Stolen Magic
by Kealyn
Summary: On the cusp of his 16th birthday, Seif discovers his new powers. Can he learn to control his powers in time to stop a madman from robbing him, and the other mages of Burning Circle temple of their powers?
1. Chapter 1

"Seif. Seif! I need you to gather our new order of plates from the potter. And make sure they're spelled or don't pay a single copper vilne for them!" A plump woman yelled from another room.

Seif sighed. His mother often yelled for him to complete some task or another. As the youngest in his family he was required to find a trade to make a living with or enlist in the Salimut's army. His brother, being the oldest male, was learning the family trade of butchery while his older sister was a handmaiden in the Salimut's court. At the ripe age of fifteen he had yet to find a trade he excelled in. Seif finally stood and dusted off his light cotton britches. He put on his sandals, which laced over his foot just past his ankle. One thing he enjoyed was the springs in Zalai. It was cool enough that he could wear his britches, but not so hot as he had to wear his head wrap when he ventured outside.

Seif gathered a few coins from his families cash box, which they often kept spelled for safety, and set out towards the artisan district of town. This was one of his favorite places, but he would never mention that to his family. Here the potters, glass blowers, tanners, and weavers all worked in the open for tips and sold their finished works for coin to live on. If his mother wouldn't give him a lashing, he would spend all day here watching people work. Coming from a butchers' family, he was seen as coming from a higher group of artisans. His family supplied people with food, unlike potters or glass blowers who only supplied trinkets and decorations.

As Seif passed the stalls of the artisans, he reflect on all the beautiful trades he attempted, to only fail at. He passed a stall where a carpenter was selling doors or all sizes, window shutters, and spare lumber. He stopped to watch a carpenter was working on a fence post. He remembered his attempt to even learn the trade, only to have an entire stock of lumber mysteriously catch on fire. Not wanting to hold on to the memory any longer, Seif quickly picked up his pace and headed towards the potters workshop. He passed a fruit seller stall, remember his attempt at gardening fruit trees, only to remember the hard, brittle shape his fruits took in every basket he picked.

He even resorted to learning the tanners work, since his family often supplied the tanner with their cow and pig hides. When this ended just as miserably, Seif had to wonder if he had purposely sabotaged himself. It was no secret that the tanners were the least favorite of all the artisans. They smelled terrible, and their work was gruesome. He had resigned that in a few months time he would be serving his royal majesty as fodder for when Yanjing decided to invade. Seif shuddered at the thought of his mother having to try to identify what remained of his body after spending any time of the front lines.

Seif smiled as he came upon the potter his family usually got their work from. Of all the people Seif interacted with while helping his parents run the butchery, he loved coming to see Tuma the most. Tuma, the potter, was an older man, his back forming a bit of a hunch from long days spent sitting at his potters wheel. His legs were thick like trunks from pushing the pedal to make the wheel spin. His hands were rough from years of labor, but strong. His hair was cropped close to his head and thin, with his crown visible from beginning to bald. He had the light olive skin of the people from Zalai, but his eyes were a dull hazel.

He couldn't see the man anywhere in the shop, but he knew he was around. He stood admiring the pots, plates, mugs, and other items that were drying on shelves around the shop. He saw pots sitting around the wheel marked with dates. Some of them were wrapped with linen tops, others exposed and half used. Seif had watched Tuma mold things in this shop hundreds of times. Some times he would spend midday with Tuma if he could, watching the man create just about anything out of the moist clay. Seif wondered why he never had asked Tuma to let him try his hand at being a potters apprentice.

Growing tired of waiting, and suddenly full of curiosity at his ability to be a potter, Seif decided to entertain himself a bit and sat at Tuma's potters wheel. He reached into the nearest bucket of clay and pulled out a large handful. The clay was cool and moist in his hand. It felt like it squirmed under his grip, probably because it was too wet. Seif felt the clay running onto the back of his hand, and quickly flung the droopy mess into the middle of the wheel. He started to slowly press the pedal as he had seen Tuma do and put his hands around the clay and tried his best to shape it. The clay quickly became uneven, forming an odd egg shape. Seif tried to even it out, but only succeeded in making it worse, as with everything he tried before. He tried to force the clay up, and it developed a thin stem that blossomed into an uneven awning. Seif sighed, unsure of what he was trying to do with this lump of clay, but knowing he was failing even then.

As if the clay knew what he was thinking, and was offended, it jumped off the wheel and back into the bucket. If he hadn't seen it himself, Seif wouldn't have believed it. It was the single greatest trick he had witnessed. He wondered if Tuma was a mage and had his clay spelled only to obey himself. Smiling and shaking the idea off, Seif stood from the wheel and jumped when he saw Tuma standing at the doorway into the shop.

"Tuma! I was just coming to pick up the plates my father ordered. I - I got bored. I'm sorry." Seif spoke quickly as he wiped his hands off on his clothes. They were surprisingly clean, with very little clay stuck on them.

"Boy, how long have you known you could do that?" Tuma asked, a smile forming over his face and and his dull eyes expressing kindness and mischief.

Seif was confused. How long had he known he could do what? Ruin everything he touched? Push a pedal with his foot? Tuma read the expression on his face. He sighed, understanding starting to develop in his old mind. "I see. Well, it would be remiss of me to ignore this." Tuma turned and took a set of plates off a shelf. They were painted white with different symbols on them. Seif recognized the wards against insects and rot, as well as the symbols for preservation and freshness. They were bundled with a beautiful lavender ribbon. "Take these to your parents, free of charge and tell them to expect two guests this evening after dinner."

Seif took the plates from Tuma and still looked confused. "Tuma, I don't understand. What are you up to?"

Tuma smiled. "You'll find out soon enough. Now get these back to your parents and enjoy your midday."


	2. Chapter 2

Shortly after dinner, Seif's mother put him to work cleaning the home they had attached to their butcher shop. He had explained what had happened in Tuma's shop, and that Tuma would be coming over with a guest. She had him running errands all after midday to prepare. For his mother, the preparations were more about showing how much his family stood above the other artisans based simply on how much they could offer to entertain guests. For Seif, it was something nice he could do for someone he considered a friend.

He fetched breads and jams from the baker, teas from the Trader caravan, and collected their best cups. He had to clean their sitting room, prepare water for the tea, and collect their pots of sugar and cream. She then forced him to go to the baths and clean himself up and put on his best clothes.

He finally returned home wearing a dull orange over-shirt made of a sheer cotton, a pair of light brown cotton britches, leather sandals, and a white head wrap made of silk. Around his neck he wore a soft Kashmir scarf, named for the type of goat they obtained the wool from. It was a common fabric in Zalai, but fetched a high price in places like Emelan and Namorn. Seif started to boil some water for the various teas when there was a knock on the door. Seif took a deep breath before walking over and answering it. When he saw Tuma, he smiled and opened the door further for his friend to enter.

Seeing the tall, thin woman with Tuma, Seif recognized her bright tan habit as a Dedicate of the Burning Circle Temple. He crossed his arms over his chest and bowed to her, as was custom in the country. She smiled at Seif and touched him on his shoulder, letting him know it was ok to stand. "Thank you for the hospitality and formality, but it's honestly not necessary." Her voice sounded as though it run over gravel and sand. It was deep for a lady, and rough. Something in Seif liked it.

When he stood, he took her appearance in fully. She was a few inches short of Seif's own five feet, ten inches. Her tight grey and white curls were smoothed back from her face and held in place by a black Kashmir headband woven as though it were lace. It had several small wooden beads attached for decoration. Her face was a soft oval, which stood in contrast to her striking brown eyes and sharp nose. "Please allow me to show you to our sitting room, Medine," Seif said, using the Zalai term for mage.

"Please, call me Faïnce. All of my colleagues do," She asked as she swept past Seif and followed Tuma to the sitting room. Seif went to the kitchen and picked up the pot of hot water and took it into the sitting room, offering tea to Faïnce, Tuma, and his parents. After everyone was seen to, he stood in front of a chair between his parents. Only after Faïnce had sat, did Seif and his parents sit.  
"Honestly Tuma, what is this all about? Seif told us about his," Seif's father stopped, trying to select the right word from the air, "attempt at pottery. But does his continued failures really request the presence of a Medine from the temple? I admit the boy is dafuke, but I don't know we need intervention. Let the Salimut's guard sort him out."

Seif bowed his head when his father used the word for a useless person, someone who lived off the kindness of others without trying to support themselves. To Seif's surprise Faïnce was the one to speak up. "My good sir, if what Tuma tells me is true, your son is far from dafuke," she cringed as she used the word. "It would seem that he may have a very special gift after all." She smiled as she reached into her robe and produced a small damp cloth. Unfolding it, she revealed a lump of dull beige clay. She stood and took it over to Seif.

"Please take this, Seif. I want you to hold it in your palm and close your eyes. Imagine, in your mind, a shape you want the clay to become." She placed the lump into Seif's hand. It was cool and felt pleasant in his palm. Seif felt like it wanted to be shaped, like it was calling for him to manipulate it. Seif looked up to Faïence, who nodded her approval. Slowly his closed his eyes, nervous about what might happen. He took a trembling breath and exhaled. The clay tickled his hand.

As if from the clays own will, and image began to form in his mind. It was a hollow cylinder, almost like a vase. The cylinder became wider and wider in his mind. The uppermost rim of the cylinder began to bend out, like a blossoming flower opens to the sun. Then it stopped and Seif could tell the clay in his mind was becoming harder. He could feel heat from an unseen fire wrap itself around the newly formed shape and dry up all of the moisture in it. He could hear the dim crackle of logs burning. He could feel the heat like a warm blanket wrapping around new clay shape and himself. The clay seemed to sing in its new shape. It so much wanted to be useful, to be this thing.

The clay began to crack as it dried. Not knowing where the heat came from, Seif was unable to stop it. He could feel the strain of the clay as it cried out. It had no water left to give. The clay began to droop, melting in the heat. The cracks increased as the heat kept on coming. The clay itself seemed to give up on its shape altogether and collapsed into a liquid puddle in his mind. It seemed to cry in agony as it melted. Seif's eyes shot open, shocked at a warm feeling in his hand. He looked to his now open hand and saw the clay lump was now the puddle from his mind, running through his fingers and over the edges of his hand and onto the floor.

Seif's mouth moved, but his throat struggled to make sound. His father was just as wide eyed as Seif. Faïence seemed pleased, and Tuma's smile was so wide Seif was convinced his teeth were going to fall out. Seif's mother was the first to break the silence. "Looks like our son isn't a dafuke after all, Dagher," She addressed his father. His father stared at her, unable to speak but able to show his distaste at his wife's sentiment. Faïence leaned down and moved her hands over the liquid clay on the floor. As if obeying her, it collected itself into a ball, and rolled across the floor onto her palm. The clay in Seif's hand poured itself onto the floor, not wanting to be left behind.

Tuma couldn't contain himself any longer. "I'm surprised I hadn't considered this sooner. Seif, how long have your parents been sending you to my shop? Years. It's been years. And never once did I listen to the clay!" Tuma shook his head at his own foolishness. Faïence smiled, "Sometimes we get so comfortable with our craft that we forget to listen to it. It helps to get away every now and then. That's why so many of us come to market every month to sell our wares. However, this means that Seif will need to decide what he wants to do."  
Seif sat in his chair, still staring at the spot in his hand where the puddle of melted clay once sat. His mind seemed to lurch to a stop as all of the talking going on around him became muffled noise. Like a potters wheel just being started, his mind started to spin slowly, then much more rapidly. He had magic! He was going to be useful! He would be able to do something with his life beyond taking a well placed lightning bolt from a Yanjing battle mage!

Faïence's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife, "Of course this means we'll have to move him to Burning Circle for his training. I'd offer to leave him here with Tuma, but since he couldn't even identify a mage he had seen for years, it leaves me questioning his ability to teach." Her smile was wide, and her tone playful. She and Tuma seemed to share a bond that ran deeply, for her to make such offensive comments in mixed company without him immediately lashing her.

Dagher finally found his voice and spoke up. "I think its for the best then, unless the boy desires to serve the Salimut in his army." It was a statement more than a question. For Seif, this was his first official step towards being a man that his family respected. Since he started trying to find his way he had been treated as a burden and was often considered a joke in his own household. Now he had all the power, he could make the choice that defined his future. The moment was not lost on Seif, but his father impatiently cleared his throat.

"I want to go with Faïence, I want to learn my magic at Burning Circle." The words were sweet in his mouth, and his own smile was so large that his face muscles started to cramp. Rubbing his cheeks, he wasn't sure if he would ever stop smiling.


	3. Chapter 3

That night Seif's mind was a blur of all the things the sudden declaration from the dedicate meant. He would be able to leave his home, become something useful, to start getting his hands dirty with something he always admired! What would he create? What kind of things could he do with his magic now? How often had he accidentally used his magic to muck up any of this other endeavors? Suddenly Seif thought back on all of the things he tried to do and how terribly they had gone, and had to wonder how much of it was his magic coming through and not his own incompetence.

He laid on his bed, his smile still holding on from a few hours earlier when Faïence told him of his gift. Deciding that laying in bed until morning was just as useless as daydreaming about his future creations. Sitting up in his bed, Seif tossed his light muslin blanket to the side and slipped his feet into a pair of thonged sandals. Standing, he made his way to a small table near his door to bring some light to his room. He quickly found his flint and struck up the wick on his candle. Having done this for years, Seif almost wagered he could get around his house blind at this point.

Carefully, Seif took the candle around his room and lit a few others he had kept around for nights when sleep alluded him. Finding the trunk that his parents bought for his families trips further west when they went to purchase cattle, he started to go through his belongings. He knew that he wouldn't be able to bring all of this things to the Temple. He had read that while initiates to the Temple did not take a vow of poverty, they also lived modest lives without many possessions. He dug through his clothing finding things he wanted to take with him. He didn't have a lot of clothing, but some of what he had seemed too out of place for the Temple.

He left behind his expensive silk shirts and his heavy Kashmir robe. He hated to leave them behind. While he family was not rich, they had saved every year to present him such wonderful gifts during their Solstice celebration. For the people in Zalai, Solstice was a large celebration with two ends. First, they celebrated that they would soon be experiencing cooler nights and shorter days. Second, they celebrated that it meant the beginning of the rainy season so that their crops could drink of fresh water before beginning their growing season again.

Thinking hard on it again, he grabbed the heavy robe and tossed it into the trunk. He might not ever need it, but at least he would have it. He tossed in many of his lighter shirts, some britches, a few cotton undershirts, and a wide brimmed hat he wore during the rainy season. He noticed that his trunk was only half full and wondered if he should pile anything else in. Slowly Seif scanned his room.

On his wooden bureau he had a few candles, some books he had purchased and finished reading, and a small metal dish and pitcher he used to wash himself in the morning. On his end table, he had only his flint and candles. Then he rounded on his bed, a mattress covered in a thin muslin blanket with a pillow at the end. Had he really lived with so little personal possessions? He had seen the gifts his parents showered on his older brother, and even his sister when she was hired to work for the Salimut. For the first time in hours, Seif's smile faded. He slipped off his sandals, blew out his candles, moved his trunk onto the floor, and fell asleep as his joy slowly slid away from him.

A few hours later, Seif woke up with the crow of the rooster. Groggily he made his way to his basin on his bureau and filled it with some water from the pitcher. Seif stood there in his half-sleep haze staring at the water before completely submerging his face. When he pulled his face back out, he could feel the water running down his neck and back, soaking into his light cotton bed clothes. The water was warm, like the air around him, but refreshing. He could smell his mother cooking some pigs meat and eggs and his mouth watered. He stripped off his shirt and grabbed a rag from a drawer in his bureau. He dunked the rag into the basin and used it to lightly rinse off any sleep-sweat from his body. Then he pulled off this pants and did the same before putting on a clean loin cloth and a light muslin shirt and britches for the day.

His shirt was dyed a light lavender color, and he only wore it for special occasions. Today he was to head into the artisan district after breakfast to meet Faïence and buy a few things he would need for his training at the Temple. After that, she wanted to gather his trunk from his home to prepare for his trip tomorrow. Seif walked into the kitchen and greeted his mother and began to help her set the table for their family. He sister came down, pinning up the last of her braids under a grey colored head scarf and sat. She was quickly followed by her brother and father, who were both wearing plain clothes that had been dyed with splotches of animal blood from long days spent in the butchery.  
"I hear you have magic, Seif. Mother told me about it last night when I got home. You know, I've heard the Salimut has a liking for strange magics. Perhaps you could meet with him when you finish your training," His sister said as she took a few eggs and a piece of pigs meat onto her plate. Seif poured her a cup of hot water for her tea. As she reached into her dress and pulled out a small bag of Wake-Me-Up tea she had purchased from a Trader caravan, Seif smiled.

"If I ever finish my training, I'll have to have you put in a good word for me. Assuming of course that Tuma doesn't try to make me follow in his foot steps." Seif sat at the table and collected his own food. As his family ate in silence, Seif barely looked up from his plate, shoveling the food into his mouth. He barely chewed before swallowing, when his mother put her hand on his arm.

"Boy, if you do not slow down you are going to choke. You're no good to this family, or your new Temple, if you die out of eagerness." Seif swallowed hard and looked down, shamed. He knew that she was right. He apologized and slowed his eating down to finish what little was left of his breakfast. After he was done, he cleared the table with as much haste as he could manage, putting the uncooked food back into their cold box. He helped his mother wash the dishes and dry them, placing them back into their cupboard. He looked out the window to the sun dial his family had placed to check the time. He could hear the sounds of the artisan district beginning to wake.

Seif said his goodbyes to his family as he strapped his sandals on, and took off for the artisan district at a trot. The air was beginning to get heavy with water, and Seif knew if he tried to run in this he would be winded before he got too far. As he walked through the district, he saw shutters opening, people sweeping out shops, and others already at work setting out pieces to sell or putting the finishing touches on others. All around him, he looked in wonder at the trinkets, smells, and sounds of his future. He stopped at the corner of one building and closed his eyes to take it all in. He could feel fires slowly waking all around him as he did. Being prodded with coals, wood, and iron rods to move around the warming pieces.

He could feel the stones of buildings stalwart in their years of service, he could feel water flowing from buckets, sitting in basins, and running deep beneath his feet. Seif took a deep breath and let it out. A couple of shouts of panic made him come back to himself and look around the corner. In multiple spots he could see people warding themselves as their fires roared to life, as water in buckets started to boil, and as loose stones shifted in their place. Sheepishly he smiled, before turning and beginning to head in the other direction. As he did, he was greeted by a familiar face. It was hardly as amused as his own.  
"I had expected you would wait until you found me to try that," Faïence said as took Seif by the arm. Familiar with this means of travel, Seif bent his arm at the elbow and cradled it close to his body to escort the Dedicate. "You've gone and got the elements around here all wound up. You really should be more careful." As they walked, Faïence walked by each shop where owners were shrugging off the odd occurrence as they saw the Dedicate in her robes. Most of them knew strange things happened whenever a member of the Living Circle religion was near. "Seif, I asked you out here this morning so we could get you your first clay. It's important for you to pick it out yourself. Unfortunately, there's been a bit of a traffic hold in Namorn the last few days, so we don't have much to choose from.

"You see, most of our clay comes from Namorn, who seems to be rich the material. Namorn clay is also some of the easiest to work with because of how it collects there. It's a natural process that takes some time, but also leaves the clay calm and obedient. Unlike clays from places like Emelan or Anderran, which are stubborn as the sea. Namornese clay comes from the Syth, which is a freshwater lake. The salt from the sea makes clay disagreeable for beginners. It gives it an extra edge that most beginners find impossible to work with... like an older sibling." She smiled as she reflected on her comment.  
"What's so funny about that?" Seif asked. The Dedicated smiled at him, and cupped his chin in her hand.

"I have an older sibling who is also gifted with magical ability. Of course, hers comes in the form of academic magic. We've had many a long," she paused as she selected the best word, "discussion about these things." Faïence continued to discuss the regions clay came from with Seif. She had told him that most water-bbased countries would have some variation on clay. It made it expensive to purchase in land locked placed like Zalai, but that's where trade came in handy. Seif had asked about the great river than ran into Zalai, and Faïence told him how that water also came from the sea. "It's got it's own clay deposits, that we mine, but it's also got some salt in it from the water there. Now, we could work with it and push the salt out, but that takes up much time and magic from a mage. Salt is a stubborn thing when it wants to be, especially in something like clay. If you have the time, then there's no hurry and you can work with a salt water clay, or even spend some time coaxing the salt out of the clay to replace it with fresh water. However, if you've got your own business or have very little time on your hands, spending a little extra and finding a fresh-water clay is better."

Reaching a small caravan of tents and wagons, Seif recognized the Trader caravan that often made a stop in his city. Faïence bowed to the women who stood at an open stall with several wares setting on shelves and lining a few shelves that ran between posts. She had a small table near the back of the stall with tea and some treats. On the rare occasion that he dealt with Traders, it was always his favorite way of dealing. They always offered food and drink, and this was the easiest way to please a young boy. Seif bowed, as Faïence had, and stood just behind his teacher.

"Hello, dear Ojia. It's a fine day for a conversation, is it not?" She asked as she smiled broadly. The woman behind the stall smiled and flapped a hand at Faïence, giggling.

"You would think that after years of dealing with us, you might stop with the silly formalities, Faï. I thought I'd see you here this month, so I made sure we had plenty of different clays for you." The woman disappeared behind a cloth curtain that at the back of the stall. She reappeared a few moments later with a few different crocks with linens tied tightly on the top. As she was about to untie them, Faïence stopped her.

"I have a new student with me, Oija. I want to use this opportunity as his first lesson." She turned to face Seif, "Without looking, I want you to explore each of these containers and figure out with of the clays you would like to work with." She smiled, showing her many white teeth. Folding her hands in front of her, she stepped out of the way and winked at the Trader, Oija who smiled cautiously and took a few steps backwards.

Seif didn't know what to do. He wasn't allowed to look inside the crocks, but he had to decide which clay was best for him. He stuttered a bit before Faïence spoke up, "Use your magic. I surely hope you're not simple, my child." Her voice was dry, but she smiled. Seif was used to sarcasm from Tuma. It was a quality he had not cared for in his friend, and he was sure he would learn to like it even less in his teacher. Concentrating, looking for that feeling he had previous night when he held the clay, Seif held his hand out above the linen covers.

He could feel clay beneath his hands. It had felt hard, and warm. Any time he attempted to explore it, he seemed to get rejected, as though he hit a brick wall. "I don't understand. All I feel is a wall." He tried not to whine, whining at home got him wrapped by his mother. He sighed, recognizing this all too well. This was the beginning of the end for his trip into magic. Like everything before, he had found a way to ruin this too.

Faïence smiled softly. "You're letting the clay of the pot confuse you. What you're feeling is the already cooked and formed pots. Explore past them. Let yourself ignore them, like so many people in a market. They are simply a crowd you have to get through, with a little force." Seif took another deep breath and closed his eyes. He turned her words over in his mind again and again as he let himself explore outward again. Again he ran into the stiff walls of the pot. This time he didn't let them fool him. A little bit of force, he thought. tightening the muscles on his body, Seif forced his way beyond the clay pot.  
It was tough to get beyond the clay pot. It was already formed, but seemed to beg for his touch as he moved beyond it. Like a loyal pup being left ashore, it whined and begged, trying it's best to cling to him. He shook it off, pushing on further. Beyond the pot, he found what he was looking for. A piece of cool, damp earth awaited him. He could feel it's joy at his presence. It seemed to dance for him, squirming and wiggling, rising and falling. Like an energetic child that wanted to play, this clay was bouncy and flexible. It just wanted attention. Seif withdrew his magic, after promising the clay he would be back, and began to explore the next container. This one was much easier to get through, as Seif found a crack in the bottom that allowed him much easier access.

The clay in this pot seemed that it couldn't be bothered to wake for him. He was gruff and hard. Seif poked at it with his magic, and it poked back. Seif smiled, thinking of how this clay reminded him of his brother when he slept in. It had wanted nothing to do with him, and so he wanted nothing more than to tease it and poke it until it gave in. The gruff clay seemed to not want to give in to his continued attempts to rouse it. It simply rolled to the farther edge of the pot to escape his annoying prods. Seif withdrew himself from this pot, and let his consciousness spread out.

Something behind the curtain called to him. It was agreeable, like a trusted friend. It was willing to do what he wanted, without much hassle or too much energy. It wasn't difficult and promised to give as much of itself as it could. Seif pulled his magic back into himself and opened his eyes. "I want the one behind the curtain still." He looked to his teacher, and then turned to look at the Trader, who was picking up the crock with the crack in the bottom. It had fallen onto it's side, the clay in it pushing on the linen on the top.

"You seemed to have upset the fire clay." Faïence smiled as she looked to Oija, "It seems I might have someone capable on my hands, yet. Can we have the real clay, please?" The Trader nodded as she disappeared behind the curtain again. Faïence turned to look at Seif. "I'm surprised you didn't go for the ball clay. A lot of beginner mages make that mistake. They see the energy of it and assume it will be easier to work with than the fire clay. I might make a decent mage of you yet."

Seif smiled in return, "The, did you call it ball clay?" Faïence nodded. "The ball clay reminded me some of the younger animals on our farm. Too excitable and hard to herd. But the other one, the fire clay, reminded me a lot of my brother early in the morning. He's so hard to wake up!" Faïence snorted and choked at his statement, her face turning red as she let out a deep laugh that caused her to bend over.

When she finally righted herself, she had explained to Seif that ball clays were useful for stiffer clays to make them more agreeable to shaping, which is why it was so excitable. Too much of it and the clay would become unruly and refuse to listen. Too little, and a potter risked injury to muscles from overworking. The fire clay, on the other hand, had to be stubborn. It could be added to make a piece more resistant to heating. This could be exceptional in pieces that would become consistently exposed to heat, like building a fire pit for a glassblower or smith, or for building bricks for houses. "You want a piece like that to be highly resistant to heat when finished, so it doesn't explode when someone starts to use it. However, large pieces like that also use a lot of magic to make the clay agreeable to setting."

When the Trader returned she took Seif's money, three gold vilnes, which was more than most people made in a month, and thanked them both for their purchases. It was close to midday by the time Seif and Faïence carried their new purchases to the Temple wagons. "I'll be buy with one of the wagons to help collect your things shortly after midday. We'll start our trip to the temple after then. I suggest you use what's left of your money to buy some treats for the trip. It can be dreadfully long. We won't get back until well after dinner."


	4. Chapter 4

"Three gold vilnes?" Dagher, Seif's father, yelled, "Do you have any idea how hard it will be for us to get any of that money back?" His father was an imposing man. Long years of raising and slaughtering cattle had given him a stocky figure with large muscles. He wore his straight black hair cropped just below his ears and pulled back, tied with a leather thong. Now his face was red under it's deep bronze color, his black eyes wide in his rage. Seif sat with his head down at the dining table as his father continued berating him.  
"That's more money that you should ever have taken! You are hardly of any use here, to be taking that kind of money! You work a maids job, you should make a maid's pittance!" Seif flinched as he shouted it, thankful his sister was required to work at the castle during midday. His fathers words were like dull rocks that were thrown at Seif's fragile mind. He felt like an already formed pot, and his fathers words were stones causing him to crack and break. He was about to fall apart.

Slowly in his mind, the feeling of the fire clay came to him. Stubborn, hard, almost immovable and unwilling to bend. It was meant to take a beating, and to withstand even the hottest fires. Seif imagined what it would be like to be a fire clay. His fathers shouting seemed to disappear as he imagined what it would be like to be tough, strong, and resilient. As if someone else wore his skin, Seif looked up into his fathers face. His eyes were stern, and his mouth was set. His father stopped shouting and was taken back by the change in his son.

"You have two sows and a cow who are pregnant. I would think that, for someone with so much business sense, you would see that you could sell a few of the piglets and the calf this late in the year for enough to get your precious gold vilnes back and some extra. Now if you're done wasting our time, I have to finish packing." Seif stood, and walked from the table. Dagher's mouth hung open as he walked by, shocked by this sudden outburst in his son. He wasn't sure what to say or do. Never in all their lives had his children spoken out against their parents like this. They had been raised to respect their parents with lashings and lectures, as was traditional.

Seif made his way to his room, his head held high as if he himself were immune to the world around him. When he closed his door, he collapsed onto it, his knees trembling so hard they fell out from underneath him. He slid to the floor and tried to catch his breathe as tears welled up in his eyes. Whatever feeling had taken over him, it was gone now and left the small, trembling boy in it's wake. His lips quivered as he did his best to keep his tears silent. He began to heave as he struggled to breathe, he was crying so hard. As the town's clock chimed the half hour, Seif was finally able to compose himself enough that he could stand. He walked to the dresser and washed his face in the now warm basin water.

As he finished drying his face, he heard a knock at the front door that was assuredly Faïence coming to collect her charge and his things. He heard his fathers unmistakably gruff voice shouting for him. Seif grabbed his trunk by the side handle and dragged it out of his room and to the front door. To his surprise he found Tuma instead of the Dedicate he had been expecting. Tuma smiled, and Dagher scoffed, at the sight of the boy. As Dagher returned to his shop, Tuma came over and helped Seif lift the trunk."I hear you're leaving this afternoon. I was speaking with one of the other Dedicates who will be riding with you," Tuma said. He was silent for a while. He walked into the sitting room where he had been with Seif when the boy discovered his power. Seif entered the room and took a seat near his friend. "I was actually quite sad when I started thinking of your departure. I know your family won't admit to it, but they're awfully sad to see you go as well."

Seif scoffed and rolled his eyes. He relayed the fight he and his father had just a half an hour ago. "It doesn't seem like 'sad' is the right word. More like they're thankful their burden is being shifted to someone else." Seif toyed with a loose string on his shirt as he spoke, refusing to make eye contact with Tuma, lest he start crying again. He never considered saying his goodbye to Tuma would be so difficult.

"Well, they might not show it, but I'm sure they are upset. I know I am. My best almost-apprentice is leaving for Burning Circle!" Tuma sighed and smiled. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, there was another sharp rap on the door. Seif hurried to answer it, and was happy to find Faïence standing there, another Dedicate with her, and a horse and wagon further behind them. When Tuma appeared, Faïence smiled at him.

"I had thought I'd find you here, you sly old man. Help Bonemender with the trunk," She stated more than asked. "I trust you've packed all you'll need?" She addressed Seif with this question. He nodded vigorously, practically trying to force everyone at the door, anxious to begin his journey. Just as he was about to close the door, he stopped at looked to Faïence.

"I almost forgot!" He said, startled, and ran back into his house. In the kitchen he had gathered his back of treats for their long journey and found his mother. She had tears in her eyes, and was drying her eyes with her apron. Seif paused, then rushed in and hugged her as tightly as his arms could. "I'll miss you," Seif said around his own surge of emotion. She hugged him back, tighter then she might have ever held him before, and sniffled.

"I love you, my little mage," She whispered in his ear, and gave him a light spanking on the bottom as she shooed him, and his bag of treats, out of the room. Seif wiped his eyes on his hands as he raced out the door to meet the wagon. He was surprised to find Tuma sitting inside with his trunk, the crocks of clay, and what looked like a potters wheel and other personal belongings. He opened his mouth, too confused for words.

Tuma smiled sweetly, "You are right, Faï, I think he might be daft. Perhaps we should rethink this venture of ours." Seif climbed into the wagon, still clearly unable to comprehend the scene around him. "You dumb boy, I'm coming with you. You didn't honestly think Faïence would be able to teach you, did you? Her magic is hardly able to understand all the complexities of pottery and clay."

"Tuma, you old devil, I demand you take that back this instant! I think if it came down to knowledge, you'd find that clay would be more reasonable with me than you," She said in a voice that mocked anger and exasperation. The man Faïence had called Bonemender did his best to hide a chuckle behind the sleeve of his habit, which was a dazzling white with bright blue trim around the hood, arm openings, and base. He cleared his throat and grabbed the reins of the horse, urging it on.

"I thought Faïence was a clay mage, like me. I just assumed she would teach me," Seif talked mostly to himself as he tried to order his mind around everything that had happened. "So, you're coming with us Tuma? You'll be my teacher?" His face expressing his hope and joy at the possibility of having a familiar face in such a strange and new place. His mind finally catching up, he looked to Faïence, "Then what is your magic?"

Tuma and Faïence shared a look, before he spoke up. "Yes, child. I will come with you to Burning Circle to be your teacher. How Honored Ansez will handle my return is questionable," He winked to Faïence, who smiled widely, "But I will return nonetheless. As for our dear Faï," he started.

"I am a cook mage, especially talented with baked goods and pastries. I could never quite get a passion for cooking meats and stews. Unfortunately, that means I'm about as useful a teacup in a flood when it comes to doing much beyond teaching." Faïence's smile seemed to waver as she spoke, as though she was upset she reminded herself. "I apologize if I misrepresented myself, but Tuma had asked me to test you for magic, since he seems to be terribly, irrevocably out of practice."

"My dear, I'm about as out of practice with identifying a mage as you are at changing the wind. I asked you because you live in that great big temple surrounded by tiny, unpracticed magics. If anyone would know what to look for it would have been you," Tuma chided as he poked Faïence in the shoulder. For a while the small group was quite as the wagon bumped and creaked as it made it's way out of town and down the long road that would lead to Burning Circle temple, and Seif's knew home.

Seif watched longingly as his town shrunk in his view, eventually vanishing behind a large hill. The area around his city had not been the best. The few patches of farmable ground had been claimed for the castle, and what little grazing space could be spared was long owned by Seif's family for cattle. The rest of the space was hot, dry sand. Firmer in some places, and loose and shifting in others, Seif had been used to it. As they passed other travelers, Seif noticed a small caravan of a middle-aged woman and young man passing by. Faïence and Bonemender waved.

Seif noticed the woman's green habit, and asked Tuma about it. "From another temple," He said simply. "Now, be a good boy and pass me that bag of treats I saw you caring. I'm starved!" Tuma said as he patted a round stomach. It reminded Seif of the bellies on some of their pigs. He handed the bag over to the man, who pulled out a piece of dried and peppered meat. "Hm, I'll wager your mother padded this goody bag of yours. Delicious!" He said as he bit into it.

As Seif took the bag back, he looked in and saw several other pieces of dried meat. It was some of the most expensive his family sold. Smiling broadly he offered the pieces to the others in the wagon, each of them gladly accepting it. Seif selected a pastry for himself. It had a crisp brown crust, and was folded over itself in a triangular shape. Inside it had been stuffed with preserved lime and apricot fruits. It was one of his favorite treats of all times. Around bites, he found the chance to speak up, "So if Tuma is a clay mage, and Faïence is a cook mage, what is your magic Bonemender? And how do you all know each other?"

"I'm a healer," Bonemender said matter-of-factly, slowly chewing on his food. "I know Faïence because she and I share a cottage inside of the temple. Tuma I had the pleasure of meeting on this wonderful trip." His voice was dry as he spoke the last two words. It was clear he was not fond of the man, and it seemed he didn't much care for the man's new charge.

"Don't mind him," Faïence spoke up. Her gravelly voice seemed to wash the man away in a rockslide as she began to relay the tale of how she and Tuma had met. "Let me see, it was many, many years ago. Many more for Tuma," she said with dramatic emphasis, "As he is clearly much older and worn than I."

"Oh yes Faïence, you're absolutely spritely," Tuma said dryly, rolling his eyes and plucking a grey hair from her head. "Here, I got this for you. I don't want you to betray your own age." He smiled and winked at Seif who coughed on his pastry at the antics. This was a side of Tuma he had never seen. The man was boy-like in his interactions with Faïence, and she was alike in return. Rubbing the spot on her head where he pulled out her hair, she turned around to glare at Tuma, and continue her story.

"We had both been brought to Burning Circle in the same year. At this time it was under a different Dedicate Superior. He and I were taking a basic protections class. If I recall, it was because neither of us had a proper teacher at the time." She tapped her lips with a slender finger, as if trying to sort out the images of her past in her mind. "Yes, I think that's it exactly. The cook at the time had little to no time for someone without an ability at meats and stews. Useful foods, he called it. And Tuma was too much trouble for any of the potter mages."

"Most of those clay ball fights weren't my fault!" The grown man stated, almost whined. "I had a very energetic magic. It got away from me. A lot. Needless to say, I had been given to the temple until a proper teacher could be found to corral me. Faï and I were in a basic protections class, learning 'practical applications' for our magics when we had been paired together."

"And this genius decides he's bored, and shapes the Dedicate Instructors protective circle into a bowl, and upended it on the poor woman. I couldn't stop laughing," Faïence took back over telling the story, "And so naturally she decided I was a cohort in his evil deed. We've been great friends ever since."  
"I wouldn't say great. She didn't talk to me for months after that. I brought her around eventually," Tuma smiled at her.

"You badgered relentlessly." She quipped as she settled into a fit of giggles at the memories. Seif sat in the cart, his arms folded on a few crates. He rested his head on them, day dreaming of what Burning Circle would hold for him and the great many things he could one day make. Soon, day dreaming became real dreaming as his eyes grew heavy and shut out the noontime sun and world around him. Again, he fell asleep with a large smile on his face.


	5. Chapter 5

The sounds of cracking overhead, followed by booms that shook the ground beneath him caused Seif to sit up. Panic coursed through his body as he took in the image all around him. He lay on a pallet in a small tent with ten other men and women. Each of them wore the traditional military outfits of the Salimut of Zalai. Around him lay piles of crates, some labeled as containing the explosive powder known to make boom-stones for catapults as well as a variety of swords and spears. Confusion swept through Seif, only to be taken over again by panic when another loud crack sounded overhead and the entire tent covering Seif was blown away.

Around him an entire battle raged. The army of Yanjing was nothing but battle mages wielding lightning bolts and death in their wake. Nameless citizens in the Salimuts army exploded into clouds of blood, washed away with the wind. Crates of boom-stone powder exploded nearby. Seif turned to run to see a Yanjing mage standing above him, stretching a lightning bolt between his hands. The bolt grew brighter, Seif could feel the heat as the mage raised it high and, like a spear, thrust it down towards Seif's face.

Again the earth shook beneath the small wagon. Seif gasped for breath as he sat upright near Tuma. His elbow striking a wooden box nearby. Mumbling under his breath, Seif cupped his now throbbing elbow in his other hand, taking in his surroundings. It was nearly night fall, and all around him stood charred remains of trees and fields. Seif knew they were not freshly burned, but from a forest fire centuries old. He turned to the front of the cart to see Tuma now had the reigns in his hands as he spoke quietly with Faïence. Bonemender was absorbed in a book in front of him.

"You really need to make less noise when you sleep. And perhaps wake with less... enthusiasm," came Bonemender's dry voice from behind the book. He looked up for a moment to stare at Seif. Sniffing at Seif, he returned to his book.

"Glad to see you're awake, lad! We're almost there. You can see the walls off in the distance yet." Tuma yelled behind him, almost sensing his charges eyes. Seif looked beyond Tuma and realized that walls began to grow from the ground miles ahead. They were tall, and looked to have seen better days. The setting sun highlighted notches and turrets spaced equally apart running the length of the top of the walls, and two buildings standing tall behind. Faintly, Seif could hear a clock chiming.

Faïence smiled, "Ah, thirty minutes after seven. The kitchens will be closing and the baths will be warming. Looks like ice box fare and cold baths for us!" Seif's stomach grumbled at the mention of dinner. He reached for his food bag and pulled out the last remaining treat; a piece of cured meat that smelled of spices and burnt the nose. It was a favored dish of Seif's oldest brother, but Seif hated the sting it left on his throat and lips.

He put the meat back and slumped back into the carts rail. He watched as the sun set casting large shadows over the walls and the surrounding area. Still, in the distance he could hear the cracks of lightning and the loud explosions of boom-stones. He was shaken to the bone.

As the clock inside Burning Circle struck nine at night, the small wagon made it's way to the front door of the temple. Seif stared in awe at the large wooden doors that stood open, exposing a deep stone tunnel that granted entrance to the temple. As slowly as possible, they group made their way inside, the clacking of the horses hooves echoing off the walls and ceiling. As they emerged into the temple from the other side, Faïence and Bonemender began to dismount from the wagon. Tuma, following their lead, got off from the drivers bench and handed the reigns over to a novice who donned a white habit.

Seif clambered down from the wagon, any sense of tiredness fleeting quickly as he took in what sights he could. The walls of the great temple were twenty feet high, with turrets and notches spaced evenly throughout. Inside, there were packed dirt roads that traversed between buildings, lined with lush gardens or lawns. Trees speckled the land, growing strong and tall. Two tall buildings again caught Seifs' eye. One held four large time pieces, signaling the hour in all four cardinal directions. The other was triangular in shape, but just as tall. Lights flickered inside of triangular building.

Just as Seif turned to ask about it, he was greeted with an armful of belongings. "We'll carry the lighter bits up ourselves, and have the rest sent up in the morning. Tonight you can both stay with Mender and I." Faïence chimed. She smiled, and turned on her heels, leading Tuma and Seif to the cottage. Everyone chose to ignore Bonemender's groans of disapproval.

As the group of four made their way towards the end of the temple opposite the entrance, Seif continued to look at the other buildings that he found himself passing by. From two buildings that stood parallel to each other on either side of the road he could hear boys voices drifting from one, and girls from the other. Some novices were hanging out the windows, laughing and chatting with one another from across the road, but quickly diving back inside when they saw the two Dedicates coming nearer.

"Lights out, I'm afraid," Faïence said in a startling loud voice. She raised her arm, elbow bent, and closed her hand tightly into a fist. A wash of air flowed past Seifs' ears as each light in the dorms went out at once. Seif turned to look at Faïence, his mouth agape. "I'm a kitchen witch, which means I have a bit of an understanding with fire." She patted Seif on the shoulder and kept up her walk.

As he picked up his pace to catch up, he saw others in white cotton robes emerging with piles of clothes folded in their arms, freshly wet from baths. They chatted and giggled, discussed things in earnest. Others yawned as they ran fingers through wet hair, battling of sleep before getting to their beds. Eager to get into a bed himself, Seif looked to Bonemender and Faïence. Just behind a large building that Faïence pointed out as the dining hall and main kitchen, they came up to the door of a small, two floor cabin.

The walls outside were made of clay bricks, which Seif picked up on immediately. The roof was covered with clay tiles, curved and hollow, like half circles. The windows were closed with shutters made of wood and painted a golden brown. Bonemender was the first in, opening the weathered, wooden door and lighting a lamp just inside the door. He continued around the main room, which held two seats, each near an end table, and a bookcase full of different looking tomes, lighting other lamps on the wall. Faïence disappeared behind a door on the side of the room with a bag. Within moments the entire room came to life in light, heat, and smells.

Seif recognized the smell of cooking breads, cakes, and soup. Everything made his mouth water and his stomach roar with hunger. If Faïence calling him to dinner hadn't stirred his feet, the smells would have. Rushing to the door, Seif stopped to stare at the kitchen in front of him. A long table made to seat three on either side sat in the middle of the room, with two ovens in the wall, and a bucket for scrubbing dishes. A large icebox was sat on the wall behind one row of seats, unlike anything Seif had ever seen. In his home, and many others, the iceboxes were kept in the floor, where the ground was cooler than the surface.

"If you do not move, I will turn your bones into lard." Bonemender said from behind Seif. His normally dry voice now sounded like tinder, ready to go up in flame at a moments notice. Hurrying into the room, and out of the way, Seif stood to the side of the door as Bonemender took a seat at the table. Seif made sure to sit on the other side of the table as Faïence set out a few bowls and plates. Next, she laid out two loaves of bread, shaped into the symbols of health and rejuvenation. Taking the bowls she laid out, she scooped some soup into them, and handed one to everyone at the table.

After finally gathering a bowl of soup for herself, Faïence sat at the table herself, next to Bonemender and across from Tuma. Seif ate in silence as Tuma and Faïence talked casually about many different topics as though they were old friends who always shared dinner together. After finishing his meal, Seif cleaned his dishes in the bucket, and left them to dry in an empty basin near the sink. Yawning deeply, Tuma stood from the table and gripped his charge by the shoulders. "Let me take you up stairs. If I remember correctly, There's still some space up there for two homeless lads like ourselves."

Faïence nodded as she collected her dishes and Tuma's and took them to the basin to wash. "Good night gentlemen. In the morning we'll get this all sorted out. Get some rest." Both Tuma and Seif said their goodnights and Tuma led him out of the kitchen and back into the main room, where a set of stairs stood. Climbing up, he saw four rooms, two of which had their doors closed. Tuma led him to one of the closed doors, and opened it slowly. The hinges creaked from disuse as Tuma entered and lit a lamp to reveal a small bedroom. Inside was a bed, an small table, and a single window that faced the back wall of the temple. Seif said his goodnights to Tuma and walked over to the window, unhinging the latch and opening it to let some fresh air in.

The air that come in through the window was heavy and wet, betraying the clear night sky that was above. A storm was on the move towards the temple and Seif couldn't be happier. The heavy, moist air made him sweaty and his clothes clingy. Stripping off his shirt and pants, he crawled onto the bed. He pulled a bed sheet up over his body, letting the lightness of the fabric keep him from getting hot during the night but giving him some coverage incase of someone walking into the room. He laid his head down and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the temple. Crickets chirped, a few voices trailed in from different people who walked the trails outside the small house. Seif let the sound of running water and the sound of a few night birds lull him to sleep.


End file.
